The Heart System - Chapter 275

Chapter 275: Chapter 275
I sat at my desk, staring at a screen full of things that absolutely required my attention. Calendar blocks color-coded by priority, internal memos flagged for Nala’s approval, a procurement request waiting for my signature before it could move up the chain, and a half-finished summary report I was supposed to send to legal before lunch. Being the CEO’s secretary wasn’t glamorous. It meant filtering calls, drafting replies in her voice, organizing meetings she didn’t have the patience for, and making sure half the building didn’t collapse under its own bureaucracy.

I wasn’t doing any of that particularly well today.

I leaned back in my chair and exhaled slowly. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw Nala through the glass wall of her office, pacing slightly as she spoke into her phone, one hand rubbing her temple as she listened. To my right, two analysts were hunched over a tablet, quietly arguing about a discrepancy in a financial projection. Everyone around me was locked in, focused, productive.

And there I was. Running on almost no sleep. Fighting to keep my eyes open.

“God…” I muttered under my breath.

I hadn’t slept last night because of Mendy. Or rather, because of everything after Mendy. ‘Let’s just stay friends.’ The words still echoed in my head, refusing to settle. Was she serious about that? After the way she reacted, after the way her body trembled when I went down on her, after how close she’d held onto me like she was afraid I’d disappear? What did “friends” even mean to her?

My thoughts were a tangled mess.

I rested my elbow on the desk and let my chin sink into my palm, staring blankly at my screen. There was still time before we could head home. No escape yet. Just me and my thoughts.

“Ya-hoo.”

A gentle pat landed on my shoulder.

“Evan.”

I turned my head and found Kim standing beside my desk, her arms relaxed, her expression soft but curious. “Oh. Hey.”

She tilted her head slightly. “What’s up? You look… down.”

“Eh, I’m good,” I said, forcing a small chuckle. “Just tired.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie either.

Carrie’s face flickered briefly through my mind, uninvited. Tom’s mother. Rich. Dangerous. Persistent. I was still keeping her existence from Kim, and the longer I did, the more uncertain I felt about whether I was protecting her or just delaying the inevitable fallout.

Kim stepped closer and leaned forward, planting both hands on my desk. I leaned back a little to look up at her properly. She smiled at first, then her lips curved into a knowing smirk.

“Come on,” she said quietly. “Tell me. What’s been bothering you?”

“Nothing,” I replied, a little too quickly, a little too practiced.

She squinted at me. “I know my melancholic detective like the back of my hand. Something’s up. Just tell me.”

Before I could respond, the glass door to Nala’s office slid open.

“Wow,” Nala said, smiling as she looked between us. “I didn’t know I was paying you two to stand around and do nothing.”

Kim straightened instantly and snapped into a mock-serious salute. “Sorry, Ms. CEO. We’ll get back to work immediately.”

Nala shook her head, amused, and closed the door again.

Kim pushed herself away from my desk, letting her arms fall to her sides. “You heard the boss. Guess I’m back to my desk.”

“Yep,” I said dryly. “Terrible management.”

“I know, right?”

“Yeah,” I added. “We should quit.”

She laughed, waving at me as she walked toward the elevator. I watched as she stepped inside and pressed the button, the doors sliding shut between us. Once the elevator disappeared, I stood up, reached behind me to the coat hanger, and pulled my cigarette pack from the pocket.

I glanced at Nala’s office again and lifted the pack slightly, shaking it side to side. She caught the gesture, rolled her eyes fondly, and gave me a thumbs-up. Then she blew me a kiss through the glass.

I exaggerated a dodge, crouching slightly. She dropped her shoulders in mock defeat and flipped me off.

“Ouch,” I muttered with a tired smile.

I walked toward the elevator, pressing the call button. As I waited, my thoughts drifted again, unhelpfully.

“Alright,” I said under my breath. “Carrie Beldenwary. How the hell am I supposed to deal with you?”

The elevator dinged open. I stepped inside, pressed the ground floor button, and leaned back against the wall as the doors slid shut. My reflection in the mirrored surface looked about as exhausted as I felt.

Mendy’s voice crept back into my head. Just friends. I closed my eyes briefly and exhaled through my nose, steadying myself.

The doors opened again. I nodded to the security guard at the desk as I passed, zipped my coat up tighter, and stepped outside into the cold. Snow brushed against my collar as I pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag.

I exhaled slowly, smoke curling into the winter air.

I was tired.

I tilted my head back and looked up at the sky. Snow drifted down in slow, lazy spirals. For a brief moment, I let myself just stand there, breathing in the cold, letting it sting my lungs enough to keep my thoughts from spiraling.

I closed my eyes and took another drag from the cigarette, holding it in longer this time. I had no idea what I was supposed to do next. No idea how to deal with Carrie, how to keep her away from Kim, or how to make sure this didn’t turn into something uglier than it already was.

When I opened my eyes again, the sound of tires crunching against snow pulled my attention toward the parking lot.

A car rolled in and came to a stop a few spaces away from the entrance. I watched idly as the passenger door opened.

Amelia stepped out.

She looked like she’d been in a rush. Her hair, usually neat and controlled, was slightly disheveled, strands escaping whatever tie had tried and failed to keep it in place. She straightened herself quickly, clutching a thick folder against her chest. Her coworker got out from the driver’s side a second later, saying something I couldn’t hear before shutting his door.

Amelia didn’t wait for him. She hurried toward the stairs, heels clicking sharply against the concrete.

She took the steps two at a time. She was almost there when it happened.

Her left heel snapped with a sharp crack.

She stumbled forward, the folder slipping from her hands as she lost her balance and went down hard near the automatic doors. Papers burst into the air, instantly caught by the wind, scattering across the entrance and tumbling down toward the parking lot.

“Oh shit,” I muttered, sliding the cigarette to the corner of my lips as I moved. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Amelia said quickly, already trying to push herself up, rubbing her ankle with a wince. “God… the papers.”

She was sitting on the ground, skirt riding up slightly from the fall, pencil-tight and paired with sheer pantyhose. The posture made it impossible not to notice how sharply put together she was, even in a moment like this. I caught an accidental glimpse of something I definitely wasn’t supposed to see and immediately turned my eyes away, focusing on her face instead.

“I’ll get them,” I said. “How many were there?”

“Seven,” she replied, frustration clear in her voice.

“Alright,” I said, nodding as her coworker reached her side and helped her carefully to her feet.

“Thank you,” Amelia said to him, then glanced at me. “Really, thanks.”

I gave her a short nod and turned toward the stairs, heading down into the parking lot as the wind carried the papers farther away.

The first one was easy to spot, plastered against a tire by melting snow. I crouched, peeled it free, and folded it under my arm.

The second had slid beneath a parked car. I knelt again, cold seeping through my jeans as I stretched to grab it. While I stood, Mendy’s face flashed through my mind, the way she’d looked when she said we should just be friends. Calm on the surface, but brittle underneath.

I exhaled slowly and kept walking.

The third paper was halfway down the ramp, fluttering weakly against a railing. I caught it just before the wind could steal it again. Carrie’s voice followed immediately after in my thoughts, sharp and confident, calling Kim hers like she had any right to do so.

My jaw tightened.

The fourth and fifth were farther apart. One stuck to a snowbank, the other spinning lazily in circles near a concrete pillar. By the time I grabbed them, my fingers were numb. I flicked my cigarette away, watching it hiss and die in the snow as I ground it out with my boot.

Tom’s face surfaced next. Cowardly. Quiet. Hiding behind his mother while she fought his battles for him. The thought made my stomach twist.

The sixth paper took longer. I nearly missed it, pressed flat against the far edge of the lot, damp and half-frozen. When I finally picked it up, my breath fogged heavily in front of me.

I scanned the ground once more.

“There you are,” I muttered, kneeling to grab the final sheet where it had lodged itself against a drain. “The last one.”